


A Christmas Like Nun(du) Other

by corvusdraconis, Dragon_and_the_Rose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Magic does what it wants, Nundus, bullies get theirs, kharma is a bitch, overly helpful plush arachnids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 15:58:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16998090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvusdraconis/pseuds/corvusdraconis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_and_the_Rose/pseuds/Dragon_and_the_Rose
Summary: [HG/SS] Hermione was willing to give her life to save Severus Snape at the end of the Wizarding war. She had no idea that magic would take her up on it. AU/EWE/Crack/etc.





	A Christmas Like Nun(du) Other

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hogwarts & Holidays Fanfiction Festival by the Harry Potter Fanfiction Collective Discord

**Disclaimer:** Written for the cause of evil, I mean, uh—crap. Probably OOC/AU/EWE/Crack. Characters you recognize are probably JKR's. I make no money in this. Her sandbox, but I'm making castles.

**Beta Love:** Unsupervised! **_AHHHH!_ **(Nope, The Dragon and the Rose caught me!) Dutchgirl01, Flyby Commander Shepard

Many, many thanks for those of you who voted for my entry to the Harry Potter Fanfiction Collective's Christmas Celebration/Contest. Thanks to those who voted, this piece received the following awards! Thank you so very much!

* * *

 

**A Christmas Like Nun(du) Other**

 

_“Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful. ”_ _  
_ _― Norman Vincent Peale_

* * *

 

There _is_ a price for magic, Hermione realised.  Often it was paid in energy, but sometimes in life.

When she paid for Severus Snape’s life, she had expected to pay with her own, but she hadn’t thought that unreasonable at all. He had tried to save Harry, herself and Ron for years, from both Voldemort and their own, impetuous Gryffindor stupidity. He _deserved_ to live free of what the war had made him. She didn’t expect him to understand or thank her, but she didn’t want him to die without the chance to live his life free of countless obligations.

Hermione, however, hadn’t paid with her life—at least not in the dying sense.

Instead, she had paid with her _old_ life.

The falling had been strange.

Landing was equally baffling.

Four legs.

Um?

Hermione looked around and found herself in front of a very large tree. Looking above her, she saw the twisted face of—Professor Snape?

Younger…

Somehow thinner and more pale, which she never thought possible.

Hatred exuded from every pore.

She followed the glare she recognised oh-so-well to see—

Harry?

No, the eyes were wrong.

Was that his _father_?

The un-Harry had his wand pointed at Snape the Younger. His face was contorted with an unholy joy at the other wizard’s pain. His friends—

Sirius Black.

Remus Lupin.

… Peter Pettigrew.

They were all laughing and aiming their wands at Snape.

The amount of hatred in the air made her hair stand on end, and she bristled as a blood-curdling roar emerged from her throat and a green cloud of disease spewed from her mouth.

The boys went tumbling backwards, casting curses at her—

But the curses hit her face and body harmlessly. Each spell seemed to empower her with even more strength as her lips pulled back from her elongated fangs.

Snape fell down from the tree as the crowd of people chanting **_“Snivellus! Greasy! Snivellus! Greasy”_ ** fled in terror.

Then he landed on _top_ of her.

Hermione’s fur stood on end, her tail poofed like a bristle brush and her ears flattened. A wisp of disease trickled out of her mouth.

The stench of urine left by the un-Harry and his fellow bullies caused her muzzle to wrinkle in distaste. She laid her ears back as Snape landed on her, straddling her back like a warcat.

The feel of his hands in her fur, the scent of both his fear and awe, his warmth against her back caused Hermione to turn her head away from the bullies and regard him with her curious whisky-coloured gaze.

The hatred burning within him was gone, chased away first by fear and then a strange surge of curious wonder.

He extended a hand to her, palm down, and she pressed her muzzle into it, delighting him caressing her fur and ears. Her tongue shot out to lick his palm, scraping against his skin like sandpaper. Then he slid down, whispering softly to soothe her.

_I remember you,_ she thought, recognising the scent of herbs that clung to his robes and hair.

Snape’s hatred faded away with each stroke of his hands, his expression softening as her purr rumbled through him, vibrating his very core. He looked down, embarrassed, as he picked up his trousers and pulled them on, glowering at un-Harry and his compatriots.

Hermione puffed out another wisp of disease, and Snape seemed to realise that strong emotion triggered her outbursts. He concentrated, trying to banish his own feelings to keep the others safe. Potter and his cronies might deserve it, but there were innocents at Hogwarts that Snape would not endanger through his turbulent emotions.

He couldn’t cause their deaths, most specifically.

He had no doubt that this creature before him was a Nundu. What else could take so many spells not even flinch? Disease breath, huge size, and able to resist the spell of up to a hundred some wizards? Only a Nundu fit the bill, and everything Professor Kettleburn had told them had about the beasts was that they were XXXXX dangerous magical creatures.

As the massive beast purred, the spike-like protrusions from her skin retracted and the puffed-up neck soothed down to a more manageable size. His hands, which had been pierced by her spikes had already healed thanks to the Nundu’s saliva.

He stared into the great cat’s eyes, ignoring the inner scream telling him that staring a beast into the eyes was asking for death, and found those eyes warm and curious. Its enormous body had him staring up at her eyes—

_Her?_

Purrr.

He couldn’t explain it, but somehow he _knew_ the beast was a her.

She was the size of a shire horse—towering over everything short of that half-giant bungler who patrolled the grounds as Hogwarts’  gamekeeper.

A small cloud of blue vapour came from one corner of her mouth, and he got a whiff of parchment and old leather tomes, the mixed scents of a potions closet, and warm ginger biscuits, fresh from the oven.

_Gods, it’s my Amortentia scent,_ he thought, his eyes wide in disbelief. _What does this mean?_

The blue vapour shot up his nostrils, causing him to sneeze as a bout of dizziness followed. He was suddenly very aware of her—her fur and fangs and claws, her whiskers and fluffy tail.

_Severus_ , he heard in his head.

“Hermione,” he whispered, his forehead pressed against her muzzle.

**_“Get that bloody git!”_ **

Severus heard—Black, of course. Sirius’ wand was in his hand along with his own as his face twisted into a grin of malicious glee.

He could feel their combined hatred like a tangible force. He could feel her— _Hermione_ —soaking it all in like a sponge as pools of virulent disease filled her neck sacs.

**_“Sev!”_ ** Lily’s voice broke through the yells, high-pitched and frantic. “What’s going **_on_ ** ?! What are you **_doing_ ** ! Leave him **_alone!_ **”

Unfortunately, Severus sensed Lily’s emotions as well—just as clear as reading a facial expression—and she was royally brassed off.

Hermione, spotting the flame-haired witch, instantly tensed. The spikes emerged from their sheaths, covering her entire body with dangerous weapons.

**_“It’s just an illusion! Nothing that powerful would ever befriend that greasy git! Get him!”_ **Potter yelled, and spells zinged out of their wands in their determination to take Snape out.

The ground shook as Hermione roared, a great green-tinged cloud of disease surging outward from her mouth even as distraught teachers ran up to assess the situation, skidding to a halt as they caught sight of Hermione’s towering form.

The cloud dissipated, and the boys choked, clutching frantically at their necks. Then, after a few gagging staggers, they simultaneously transformed into a stag, a rat, a manky black grim-like dog, and—

Lupin choked, gagged, and writhed on the ground as the cloud did its work, but it seemed incompatible compared to what was going on with his mates.

Lily ran up to him. **_“Remus!_ ** Oh Remus, are you okay? Sev, what have you **_done?”_ **

_“Me?”_ Severus blurted, a look of utter disbelief on his face. “I’m standing here without a wand after being hung upside down from a tree by this lot!”

Lily’s face turned a vivid shade of Gryffindor as she became aggressive and confrontational.

**_“You show him, Lily”_ ** the gawkers cried from the windows above as they taunted, **_“Snivellus! Greasy! Snivellus! Greasy!”_ **

Hermione’s black lips curled back from her teeth as she caught the hatred-charged heckling from above as well as the outraged anger in front of her. Her whisky eyes turned a bright saffron gold as her neck sacs expanded.

“Hermione,” Severus said, gently placing his hand on her neck. One of her spines impaled his hand, causing his blood to flow.

Hermione jerked around, growling, her raspy tongue touching his wounded hand—distracted from the hate in favour of tending to him.

**_“Albus, NO!”_ **Minerva cried as Dumbledore finished a cast, and Hermione found herself impaled by multiple ley lines at once.

She roared in agony as the magic power hit her unexpectedly, her eyes filling with magical fire. She whipped her head around to eye the Headmaster as a fresh flood of disease gathered in her sacs.

Severus, feeling her agony, crumpled to the ground as he cried out in pain. “No, please,” Severus begged. “Don’t hurt her!”

**_“Kill it!”_ ** the hecklers goaded from above. **_“Kill the beast!”_ **

The leys were whispering to him insistently. He could hear them, feel them in his very bones.

_She gave her life to save yours,_ they whispered. _What would you do to save hers?_

Severus crawled to her side as she strained and heaved. The leys were forced into the shape of a cage-like formation, pinning the great beast down.

_Free us,_ they called out to him _. Free us! Join us—seal the bond! Be like her! Set us free!_

Severus saw only the pain in Hermione’s tortured feline eyes—and betrayal.

He couldn’t continue to let her suffer. He couldn’t let her be tortured with the school’s leys any longer.

_She_ was his Amortentia—

All his life he had valued magic more than anything else. Should he not put his trust in it now?

He looked at Lily’s furious red face—she was glaring at him with rage and hate, clearly blaming _him_ for all of this.

He looked into Hermione’s golden eyes, knowing the pain would be swift and merciless, but beyond it would be something greater. He was no stranger  to pain.

But just this once—he would endure it because he chose it.

He would do it because it would save _her_ , whose only sin was to choose to champion him.

_Why_?

She could have just as easily chosen Potter and his vicious band of merry wankers.

_I’m ready,_ he _s_ aid, his hand curling around Hermione’s closest paw. His fingers tugged on a single toe.

**_“Albus!_ ** For Merlin’s sake, **_stop_ ** this! You need to **_release_ ** the leys! Nundus are **_magical_ ** beasts! You yourself taught us this! **_”_ **

_I give myself unto you, my saviour,_ Severus said, his fingers squeezing her toe. _I place myself in magic’s hands at last—where it should have been all along._

The searing agony was immediate as the leys poured themselves into both him and Hermione, and all he could hear was the triumphant roar—

**_Yes!_ **

**_YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!!_ **

The leys surged and frolicked in joyous celebration.

**_FREE! Free at LAST!!!_ **

And then a total blackness, like the fathomless dark of the eclipse swallowed him up completely.

* * *

 

_Months pass..._

* * *

 

Lord Voldemort smiled cruelly as he lead his Death Eaters on a full-on assault of Hogwarts. The school was disgustingly decorated for the winter hols, and Christmas was everywhere. What better time to obliterate Dumbledore’s pet project of trying to erase his mistakes—to erase _HIM!_ Lord Voldemort!

He would _not_ be erased.

Rumour had it that Dumbledore was having… issues after having protected the school from a rampaging beast. What better time to press on to the castle and tear apart _every_ thing, right down to the flagstones.

Even the paltry wards were _nothing_ —like tissue paper!

_Insulting._

_Pathetic._

He ripped down the holly and thrice-damned mistletoe. He kicked aside the train of decadent iced gingerbread houses.

There would be no Christmas miracles for the denizens of Hogwarts, no. He toppled the snow sculptures of Santa and his elves, set fire to the pile of shiny gifts that had been left outside under a great living pine tree, one that had been decorated to the very top with garlands and magelights.

He set it on fire, laughing.

His Death Eaters laughed too—if a bit nervously. None of them had wanted to come here while Dumbledore was still perched on his golden throne like the almighty Zeus.

But that was then; this was now.

The most perfect pudding sat on a pristine table—charmed with a stasis to keep it protected from elements, and he stuck his finger in it, tasting it with a curled lip. He wiped his pudding-covered finger on one of his knights, and shattered the table with a curse. The perfect pudding went careening off into the snow—wasted and unloved.

_“That wasn’t very nice!”_ a tiny voice squeaked.

A white, extremely fluffy spider admonished Voldemort from the snow bank. Voldemort laughed, burying the unfortunate arachnid until it was utterly snowbound. It popped up from the snow seconds later, squeaking in protest, and he just shrugged, setting it on fire.

The poor spider zoomed away across the snow, crying in pain until another spider with a spider-sized bucket of water doused his brother with blessedly cold, wet relief.

“You shouldn’a be ‘ere, Tom,” a voice boomed.

Voldemort turned to see a looming almost-giant of a man with a Christmas tree tied up and dragging behind him.

“Oh, and who is going to stop me? You, Hagrid? You couldn’t even defend yourself,” Voldemort scoffed, entirely confident and smug in his superiority. “I _know_ that old Albus is down for the count.”

“Well, I, er—” the half-giant stammered. “Dat may be true, aye, but Hogwarts ‘ere don’t take kindly to violence on the grounds.”

“Oh, I don’t think you are in any position to stand in my way, Hagrid,” Voldemort said with a dark chuckle. His minions laughed along with him, fully confident in their master’s vast magical power.

“Get out of my way,” he snapped finally, using his wand to send Hagrid careening arse over tit into Black Lake where he landed squarely on a very startled giant squid.

The troop of Dark wizards and witches stormed their way towards the castle through the heavy snow, using magic to obliterate the trail ahead of them. Snow went flying in all directions to make way for them.

As they arrived at the main doors, they found them closed.

The Death Eaters chuckled to themselves, unimpressed.

Voldemort pointed his wand at it. **_“Alohomora!”_**

The massive doors opened with a loud creak exposing a massive wall of black.

“Wut the ‘ell is **_that?!”_ ** one of the Death Eaters blurted.

The black wall shuddered and moved as one leg was followed by a huge dark head as yellow-tinted fangs were exposed in a snarl.

Gold and black-spotted fur moved against it—each struggling to get through the doors at the same time. The black feline rowled, hissing, and the golden one rubbed against him, each of them flowing against each other like two meeting tides.

**_“KILL IT!”_ **one of them screamed in terror, as a hasty spell was fired off, smacking the massive black feline right in the face.

The other beams flew in all directions, taking huge divots out of the outer walls of Hogwarts as well as hitting the gargantuan cats. Mistletoe and pine boughs rained down with poinsettias mixed within. Decorative icicles shaped like penguins made distressed sounds as they came crashing to the ground, shattering on impact.

Ley energy crackled off the Nundus’ spikes as a cage of pure magic formed around the gathered Death Eaters and Voldemort.

**_“Avada Kedavra!”_ **Riddle shrieked, blasting the black Nundu in the face.

The two Nundus’ tails corkscrewed together as their disease sacs filled, making their necks bulge like a lion’s mane. They each took in a deep breath and then breathed a green cloud of disease directly at Tom Riddle and his minions.

As Minerva ran out, using her magic to dissipate the cloud of disease, Hermione thumped one huge paw down on the new Headmistress, rumbling affectionately at the older witch.

“Oi, easy there, pet,” she said. “Let’s see what you two caught us, hrm?”

The black Nundu yawned toothily as four spotted bundles of fuzz burst out of the nearby snowdrift, each sporting a Christmas puffball spider. The cubs bounced around their parents, purring, romping, and—

Chasing the newly-minted battalion of Christmas elves, all sporting pointed, puffball hats, green suits lined with snow white fur, and disturbingly curl-toed elf-boots. Some of them broke into enthusiastic Christmas carols and started crafting toys on the spot. Others conjured enormous punch bowls of wassail and sang wassailing songs. Others started repairing everything in sight from one side of Hogwarts to the other as the ley lines frolicked around the grounds carrying fresh bundles of mistletoe, pine boughs, and holly garlands.

Minerva rubbed Hermione under the chin and between the ears. “I truly _love_ Christmas.”

She looked down to see one tiny Christmas elf with the robes of the Dark Lord himself pooled at his feet, his wand broken as a small pine tree sprouted out of the broken ends. Tiny ornaments popped out all over the tree as it grew and unfurled, displaying a multitude of miniature portraits featuring the rather bleak Christmases in the life of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

“Tom Riddle,” Minerva gasped, her eyes going very wide.

“Happy Christmas!” the new elf squeaked at her, his face looking like he was screaming in horror, yet his voice sounded utterly cheerful and happy.

Minerva quickly cast her tabby Patronus, sending it zinging towards the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Hermione laid her head down on top of Minerva’s head, purring like mad.

“Och, that’s my bonnie lass,” Minerva said, rubbing the Nundu’s chin.

The cubs drove the new elf caroling across the snowy green, jingling as they went.

As the Aurors crack-Apparated outside the Hogwarts wards, the leys zipped over to open the gates, decorating each of the “drab” brown-clad Aurors with holiday garlands and wreaths even as the new Christmas elves shoved wassail in cheery red and green mugs into their hands. Fluffy spiders decorated in red, green, and white draped thick, warm silk scarves on their new guests and then jumped off their shoulders as the tiny bells on their abdomens jingled festively.

Mrowl!

Four cubs sat at Minerva’s feet with a different limb of Volde-elf in their mouths.

“Gentleman,” Minerva said. “I would present to you—the Dark Lord.”

A gruff Scotsman scowled down at the elf who looked like he was going to curse at him.

“Happy Christmas!” the elf cried as glittery magic spewed from his mouth and a table bearing a vast banquet of rich Christmas delicacies appeared in the middle of the snow-covered green.

“Uh—” Moody said, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. “You sure this one is—”

“You’ll pay for this!” the elf said, voice dripping with cheer. “I’ll murder you as you sleep! Hee hee!” his belled shoes jingled.

The great black feline leaned over Moody’s shoulder and snorted a cloud of disease into Volde-elf’s face.

**_“No! No Nooo…. HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!”_ **the elf cried, singing merry carols about peace on earth even as his little face was twisted into a rictus of horror.

“I didn’t think a Nundu could do _that,_ ” Savage said, fighting back an attack of the giggles as the gold and black Nundu female curiously snuffled his face, getting her whiskers into his hair.

She breathed a cloud of white vapour into his face, and he sputtered and laughed.

“Yes, thank you, my lady,” Savage chuckled, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Your sugarplum breath is utterly beyond reproach.”

“Proudfoot, take a tally of the infestation of Christmas elves, please,” Moody ordered. “I will see that this—grand specimen of Christmas cheer is taken in.”

“Yes, sir,” Proudfoot said, saluting with a shite-eating grin plastered on his face. “Come on, Savage.”

“Do I get to ride the Nundu?” Savage asked. He looked giddy, his entire body trembling with excitement.

Hermione shoveled her head under him and moved him onto her back and then took off like a shot, galloping across the green.

Mrowl!

The cubs protested, taking off after their mum as best as they could in the knee-deep Scottish snow.

The black Nundu looked absolutely up to something.

“Oh no… **_NO!”_ ** Proudfoot protested.

Severus snatched the Auror up by the collar of his robes and ran after his mate and cubs, carrying Proudfoot like a sack of stolen potatoes.

Moody frowned. “Minerva, how exactly _did_ Hogwarts end up with a family of Nundu again?”

Minerva tilted her head in a very feline manner. “Sheer dumb luck., Alastor.”

“You sure they haven’t hurt any of the children?”

“Absolutely positive,” Minerva affirmed. “As long as you don’t project hatred around them, they will simply protect their territory and those within it from anyone and anything and keep the leylines healthy as well. Hogwarts hasn’t been this well-protected in untold centuries.”

“Any change in Albus’ condition?” Minerva asked.

Alastor shook his head. “He hasn’t stopped spewing every damning truth under the sun since we first carted him off to Mungo’s. At least he’s still fully human, unlike that other lot. Potter, Black, and Pettigrew haven’t been able to shift back from their Animagus forms and our Animagi experts say it’s looking like they never will. Lupin may be the first _former_ werewolf in the history of, well, ever, but no one wants to let him out of the holding cell on a full moon, just in case it proves to be a temporary thing.

“When are they going to let him out of there?” Minerva asked.

“Healers at Mungo’s say give him a whole year without shifting and he’s probably clean.”

“Probably.”

“Well, it’s never happened before!” Alastor protested.

Minerva shrugged. “Mr Lupin deserves to be given a chance to set his life straight,” she said. “He wasn’t a perfect student by any means, but it didn’t take much to see that he didn’t want to let go of the few friends that had accepted him, despite his being a werewolf. Those four miscreants did manage to create a remarkably powerful map together—though I don’t think any of them expected Nundu saliva to break the enchantments requiring the trigger phrase.”

“No one expects Nundu,” Alastor said sagely. “They are XXXXX creatures, after all.”

“Supposedly.”

“How so?”

“If you, Alastor, were turned into a magical beast but retained your highly functioning mind, would you truly be an XXXXX creature or just a highly intelligent beast that doesn’t take kindly to training?”

Moody was silent for a time. “How did you find a way to communicate with them, Minerva?”

“I’m an Animagus myself,” Minerva pointed out. “As a cat, I can cross magical lines and speak with other animals and beasts.”

“Odd, Master Adiran never mentioned that.”

“He’s a whale.”

“He’s an Animagus!”

“I can’t speak with whales and fish, laddie,” Minerva said. “And seagulls that have never come inland have a horrible accent.”

Alastor frowned. “Oh. But Nundu come from Africa.”

“They’re still land animals, Alastor—and felines of a sort. Far easier to talk with than dogs. And Severus, bless him, knows me and apparently held no ill will against me as a student. I have a feeling that Hermione is far more intelligent than almost any student in Hogwarts as well. She keeps Severus on his toes, after all—and keeps their four cubs in line too.”

Alastor looked somewhat conflicted, his common catchphrase that a leopard couldn’t change its spots seemed terribly out of place when dealing with leyline-enhanced Nundu. “You’re certain—”

“Yes, Alastor. They rescued one of the Board of Governors’ sons from the Acromantulas. Not a hair on his head was harmed by them. The same cannot be said about the Acromantulas.”

“What happened to the spiders?”

Minerva smiled. “They’re still here. Serving food and weaving winter scarves.”

_“Oh hai!”_ one fluffy spider said, waving its front legs in greeting before scurrying down the snow bank.

“Those that weren’t killed underwent a few dramatic transformations for the better,” Minerva said.

“The Nundu breathed on them too?”

Minerva’s smile widened.

“I really need to go read up on Nundus,” Alastor said, sighing deeply. “Amelia keeps telling me that I need to expand my mind beyond conspiracy theories and malcontent behaviour.”

“Mrowl!” One black cub with golden spots batted playfully at Minerva’s leg. She leaned down and picked up the cub, cuddling her. “Hello, Meira.”

Meira purred and snuggled in to Minerva, closing her eyes contentedly.

Jealous cubs peered up at their sister, unhappy with the privilege of being cuddled having been denied them.

Severus and Hermione padded back in, each carrying an Auror on their back. They slid off with a thump simultaneously. “All the elves have been duly recorded,” they announced, waving the vials of memories.

Alastor nodded to them as Hermione sprawled in the snow. Her cubs tumbled over each other to nurse. She snarled when one cub got a little _too_ excited with the kneading of her belly with his claws.

The cub rolled over, retracting his claws and chattered his teeth at his mum.

Hermione turned her head away, no longer irritated, the slight forgiven. Severus lay beside her, giving her head a good grooming with his tongue.

Minerva set Meira down next to Hermione’s belly, and the female cub promptly identified “her” nipple and latched on, carefully kneading her mum’s chest with her paws.

“That would be the smart one,” Proudfoot observed.

Norah, Devlin, and Kendrick gave him feline scowls from their “supper table.”

Savage laughed. “Careful, they can understand you.”

“Just not right,” Proudfoot said, eyeing the cubs a bit nervously.

The cubs went back to their meal, their tails twitching as the jingle bells decorating them tinkled merrily.

Alastor grunted. “Okay, time to take this one to a nice, safe holding cell, and Crouch can decide what to do with him.”

“Happy Christmas!” Voldielf cried.

Alastor shrugged and waved farewell to Minerva. “Goodnight, Minerva.”

“Happy Christmas, Alastor,” Minerva said, grinning.

The gruff Auror simply grunted a response as they carried Voldielf outside the gates and Disapparated with a **_crack_ **.

* * *

 

Severus let out a long, very toothy, tongue lolling yawn as one of the leylines poked him on the rump to wake him up.

_Good morning, love,_ Hermione’s warm mind-voice greeted as she proceeded to use her rough tongue to set his fur to rights. Every morning it was the same procedure as she attempted to tame the mini-mane of fur that looked so much like his once-human hair.

Severus purr-rumbled, tolerating her ministrations for a time before he thumped his paw to pin her down and work his own magic on her fur.

_Looks like the cubs are having a good lie in._ Hermione chuckled as she saw four sets of paws sticking straight up as the cubs snored away on their backs. One of the leylines was curled around the four of them like a nest—or a corral. Either was equally possible and probable.

The half-eaten carcass of Severus’ last successful hunt lay nearby, and they proceeded to stretch and yawn before making their way over to dig into breakfast. Tiny teeth marks marked the cubs half-hearted attempts to switch to meat, but their small milkteeth didn’t make for great tearing of meat off of bones or crunching bones for marrow. Severus did his best when the cubs were attending by chewing and ripping the meat off himself, pulverizing it with his more talented adult teeth, and distributing the spoils to get them accustomed to being a carnivore, much to Hermione’s amusement and relief.

Hermione was staring at the rib she was gnawing on, silent.

_What is troubling you?_

Hermione wiggled her whiskers.

_Do you ever get angry for what I did?_

Severus stopped his crunching on another rib. _Whatever for? I chose this. I chose you. If anyone is to blame in this it was Albus Dumbledore for attempting to subjugate you with leylines and hurrying the process along a little faster than a nice long courtship._

Hermione seemed thoughtful. _You really think so?_

Severus thumped Hermione’s head with one paw, knocking her head down a bit. _I know so. Do you really think I’d stay in a loveless life just to stay human when the one who saved my life remained a gargantuan chaos-disease-breathing feline? Not to mention we freed the leylines so they weren’t forced under the will of the Headmasters of Hogwarts._

A “baby” leyline zipped by, carrying a wayward first year, having caught them trying to sneak off into the Forbidden Forest.

_I rest my case,_ Severus said with a snort. He gave Hermione’s muzzle a tender lick. _Look, it may have not been the life I imagined, but my imagination in my life under my father’s knuckles was limited to hatred and all things to get out from under his yoke and his name and his abuse. For a long time, Lily was the only bright spot in that life—a positive part of a childhood otherwise saturnine. Even she never once stood up for me like you. Even having only known you for a few minutes—you chose to defend me. I don’t think you realise how rare that was. How meaningful it was to someone like me._

Hermione laid her head down on her front paws. _You had Lily._

_Had,_ he said. _She’d been looking to row for months. Pick a reason. Pick an excuse. My House. My choice in friends. My—_ He frowned. _Interest in the Dark Arts._

_Magic is grey,_ Hermione said. _It's what you do with it that makes it forgivable or not. You can kill someone with a slicing hex. It is not considered a Dark spell. You can turn them to super-cooled flesh and shatter them—yet that is not considered Dark either._

Severus stared at her. _You—saw this?_

Hermione sighed. _Nothing scarier than a mother defending her child._

Severus seemed thoughtful as he licked his paw and ran it over his ears. _I wonder—how you can be so accepting._

Hermione’s tail flicked back and forth. _I saw what you could be, Severus. In my previous life. Even then, you protected us, even when the one who reminded you of who you loathed was right in front of you. I didn’t understand the hate before—but I do now. The day I arrived showed me exactly why._

_You gave up your life for me,_ Severus said, boggling as he had so many times before.

_So did you._

_We’re a right pair, aren’t we?_ He replied, his muzzle wrinkling. He nuzzled her. _The answer is no. I don’t regret choosing you and this life. I would rather be here, with you, and our rambunctious cubs—and however many frolicking leylines—than be a broken sod whose life focused on what he didn’t have for all his days._

Hermione’s warmth flowed over him, and they tusselled, playing tug of war with the hind quarter of the deer. They pulled, tore, clawed, tumbled, and swat at each other, fangs bared.

Then, like a switch had been flipped, they flopped on each other and shared the meal, their tails mated together as they fed. As they finished their feed together, the last of the meal went to the cubs with both Severus and Hermione chewing and scraping the last of the meat off the bones and sharing it with their still-sleepy cubs. Hermione, ever so often, used her rear leg to shovel the cubs off her milk bar to encourage them to be the carnivores they were born to be. The cubs protested before they were reminded that meat wasn’t so bad either—even if it was with their father’s paw resting on the back of their heads as he cranked them down toward the protein offering.

When footsteps alerted the feeding family, Severus stood immediately as Hermione herded the cubs behind her. The cubs, fur standing on end, hissed and bared their teeth in instinctive response. Hermione gave them nuzzles, tucking them under her and standing over them protectively.

Lily walked over the hill, a stag walking beside her.

“Sev?” she said.

Fear rolled off her as she stared up into Severus’ black eyes. While so many other students seemed to realise that Nundu were far from the feline horror stories written in books, Lily was still intensely uncomfortable in their presence. Still, Lily had chosen to apprentice with Madam Pomfrey to make an attempt at restoring James Potter to a human form. Nothing had worked so far, but one was rarely seen without the other.

Unlike Severus and Hermione, Potter had not retained his magic in his trapped Animagus form—the chaos magic woven into the Nundu’s disease breath had seen to that. Minerva had her own hypothesis as to why—every single victim of their resident Nundus’ breath had suffered something very customised to their situation. The Marauders had been trapped in their Animagus forms, Remus had been stripped of his wolf (which many agreed wasn’t a punishment but freedom), the Death Eaters had all been transformed into the most helpful, cheeriest elves on the planet, and Albus Dumbledore had been continuously spewing universal and private truths as if the very blood in his veins had been replaced with undiluted Veritaserum.

Each “punishment” had been proportionate to the negative emotion they felt at the time they were exposed.

The healers at the DoM suspected that the cure to each disease was customised to each victim, just as the disease itself was. So far, however, none of them had been released.

Hermione, however, suspected that one of them had. She believed that Remus Lupin’s loss of his wolf had been because he repented and felt sincere remorse for what he had done. Unlike the others—the remorse for his actions had been immediate.

Severus had been doubtful, but he also respected that Hermione had the same insight into what Remus could have been just as she had with Severus himself.

Magic had given her a way to make her desperate wish a reality, but it had done it on its own terms—just as it had allowed Severus to save her and Hogwarts’ leylines at the same time.

They had been judged by magic as much as their Nundu breath judged others.

Hermione could never go back to the world she had sacrificed in order to save him.

Severus could never go back to a world without her. He would never choose to be human again if it meant losing _her_.

Now, facing Lily Evans and the object of her personal pet project, none other than James Sodding Fuckwit Potter—

Severus realised that it had only been by some miracle that Lily herself hadn’t been hit with Hermione’s emotionally-charged breath in the way that the Marauders had been hit head-on. Lily had remained fearful of him since then, and perhaps that hadn’t been so unreasonable.

“Sev” had turned into a terrifying, gigantic, disease-breathing, chaos beast, mated for life to an equally frightening, immense, disease-breathing chaos beast, and now had a litter of four disturbingly adorable pint-sized disease-breathing chaos beasts.

The very name ‘Nundu’ struck most of the Wizarding world into knee-knocking, knicker-soiling terror, and the fact that most people short of Newt Scamander didn’t know anything solid about them didn’t make their reputation as a magical species any better. Thankfully, those like Alastor Moody’s team of Aurors seemed quite keen to learn, even earning themselves a few breakneck rides across the moors on Nundu-back.

Moody’s opinion had been well and truly twisted away from his original pro-Dumbledore bias when Albus’ chain of verbal confessive diarrhea revealed event after event of callous manipulation.

Whether Lily knew that Severus was actually still “inside” his fearsome exterior hardly seemed the point. Her fear was very real. Nundus fed off the emotion around them, turning it into equally powerful magic. Having a temper tantrum around a Nundu could be—would be—fatal.

Lily’s notorious temper tantrums were the stuff of legend throughout Hogwarts, so it didn’t take much to deduct how badly that would end for her in a school patrolled by Nundu.

Her wisdom in bringing a prey animal to the middle of a carnivore family, however, was frankly rather dubious, indeed.

“Sev,” Lily said, swallowing hard. “Will you please hear me out?”

Hermione’s muzzle twisted into a grimace as she carefully scented the air. The cubs mimicked her exactly, attempting to taste the scent with their flehmen response. Hermione rubbed up against Severus, laying her head over his shoulders to show her absolute solidarity. She would, he knew, support him in whatever he decided to do.

Severus growled lowly, but he flicked his tail and perked his ears forward in response.

_She doesn’t understand us,_ Hermione said.

Severus wrinkled his muzzle and flicked an ear. _She was always good at doing all the talking._

Hermione flicked her tail. _I’ve been known to be pretty chatty myself._

Severus snorted loudly, startling Lily.

_Can you hear me, S-Severus?_ The voice was masculine, familiar, but not in a good way.

Severus’ hackles raised almost immediately.

The stag walked towards him, passing up Lily. Her nervousness expected, but the stag’s approach was not.

_We can_ , Severus replied.

Potter’s ears twitched, but he stood his ground—far braver than his idiot friends had been.

_I am truly sorry, Severus,_ James said, lowering his head in shame. _I held a grudge against you in favour of an ideal. I pressed on in finding you, convinced that you were the root of so many problems. Back when I tried to save you from Remus, I had questioned my resolve, but I let myself forget the lesson—the conflict. I fell back in line, convinced I was better than you, than everyone. It seemed like everyone agreed with us. They cheered us on. Even Dumbledore covered up our sins like he was giving us permission to continue. It wasn’t till—_

The stag snorted, tail flicking wildly _. It wasn’t until I saw Dumbledore being led out of here as he confessed to a whole litany of despicable things that I realised just set us up to feed the fire of hatred and the belief nothing we did to you was anything but completely justified._

_I’ve had time—over a year now—to think about what had led me to this curse. At first I blamed you. Then, I blamed Dumbledore. At last, I realised it was my own doing. You may have fought back. You may have found some measure of revenge here and there—but we always came back four times strong to punish you for every small victory. We may both have been guilty of fanning the flames, but we—I—did not give you any opportunity to decide against it. I will live with that guilt all of my life, but I wanted you to know that I sincerely regret being the kind of person that I’d warn my future children against. I don’t want that to be my only legacy. I want my life to be more than a summary of my mistakes._

_I want my life to mean something._

Severus was silent, as unmoving as a statue save for the flutter of his fur in the wind.

_Food?!_ The cubs were trying to figure out if the stag was a second breakfast that delivered itself.

Severus thumped a restraining paw over Devlin’s head. _No._

The cub mrowled unhappily, thinking a second breakfast was a far better idea than staring food on the hoof down and conversing with it.

A frantic squealing from the woods then caught the cubs’ attention, and Hermione soon returned with a dead boar clamped snugly between her jaws. She shook it a few times to insure it was well and truly dead and thus not a danger to her young cubs, and she dropped it nearby, slicing the belly open to expose the soft, highly desired, innards.

_Second breakfast, yay!_ the cubs cried joyfully, running over to nuzzle and lick their mum in appreciation before diving in, burying themselves into the soft belly of the carcass.

Lily looked quite green and queasy at the sight, and finally she could take it no more. She dashed off to the woods and violently evicted her own breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea, and possibly future dinner all at once.

Potter, much to his credit, stayed put. The visible nervousness was quite understandable, but his bravery (or stupidity) rooted him to the spot.

Hermione’s arrival had changed a great many things, not the least of which was James’ status from rich-playboy-can-do-no-wrong to He-who-took-on-a-Nundu-that-even-Dumbledore-couldn’t-restrain. Dumbledore’s reputation hadn’t stayed untarnished, either. The truth had not set him free—

That is, unless you considered freedom an incurable case of ugly yet truthful verbal diarrhea. If that was case, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was the freest man _ever_.

The cubs, making horrible squishy, squelchy, feeding sounds in between growls and hisses as they fought for the choicest parts, only made Lily wretch even more.

Hermione seemed to look upon her with some pity—if anything, for the waste of good Hogwarts food from the hard-working castle elves.

One of the leyline “babies” was holding Lily’s hair out of the line of fire as she hurled, making an oddly touching if somewhat disgusting scene of relative normalcy.

Norah worked her way out from the carcass, covered in blood, and Severus pinned his progeny down, giving her a thorough tongue bath until she returned to her normal (if slightly pinker) gold and black spots. She pawed playfully at her father’s muzzle, growling, purring, and boxing his face with clawless bats—

At least until Severus had enough and clamped his elongated canines over her head as a warning.

Norah head-bonked her dad and rubbed up against him in appeasement and then looked up at the stag, who was still standing there, waiting—

_You do something bad?_

James’ eyes widened. Then his head bowed in shame. _Many somethings._

_Didn’t your mum and dad cuff you about the head?_

James frowned, a pretty strange look on a stag. _Erm, no._

Norah made a strange face. _Why not?_

_Uh—human parents don’t cuff their children about the head._

_Why?_

_Because human children are quite fragile._

_Why?_ Norah’s brothers and sister padded over, having completely gorged themselves silly.

James fidgeted. _They’re made that way._

Norah seemed to chew on that more than her siblings did. _If you did something bad, did you say you were sorry?_

_Mummy says you must always say you’re sorry._

_No, Mummy says you must always_ mean _it._

_That’s what I said!_

The cubs tussled together in argument, forgetting the stag momentarily.

_Did you mean it?_

James looked Norah in the eyes. _Yes, I did._

Norah’s tail twitched back and forth, some serious contemplation going on in her young feline brain. _So, what do you do if you’re forgiven?_

James seemed a little disconcerted with having a “baby” Nundu asking him seriously deep questions. Human toddlers weren’t exactly Arithmancy scholars by comparison.

_I—_ James’ ears flicked in concentration. _I’d be a proper wizard for her—_ he said. _She’s been at my side since I ended up like this. She hasn’t given up on me, and—she’s worked a lot of things out with me too. I’m not sure she realised I could understand her at the time, but she’s been trying hard to. To make sense of everything. I think we both have come to realise we need to be more than what we were, and I want to be there for her-_ **_OW!_ **

Norah chomped on James’ leg and then gave it a slobbery lick. _You’re forgiven,_ she announced, bouncing back to her dark-furred father and pouncing him.

Severus eyed his playful cub with a discerning feline brow.

James suddenly shuddered, fell to the ground, twitched, and went still.

_Uh oh_ , the other cubs said.

_Mummy said never kill humans, only non-fatal bites in self defence!_

_Well, and disease breath._

_Obviously_ , the cubs chimed together.

Norah’s tail poofed in distress. _I didn’t_ mean _to murder him!_

**_Pooff!_ **

James’ stag body suddenly transformed into a human’s—sans any sort of respectable clothing, leaving the young wizard standing there in his starkers.

“Oh **_gods_ **,” James cried, clutching his family jewels with both hands in total mortification. He tried to scrape up a handful of grass—something, anything!—to cover up his manly assets.

_Mummy, why is he holding his crotch?_

_Is he in pain?_

_Did he fall on something?_

_Should we pounce him?_

Hermione thumped her curious cubs over and laid on them, squelching their chain of thoughts with her impressive physical mass.

**_“James!”_ **Lily cried joyfully, running over to throw her outer robe over his nudity. She used her wand to transfigure it and do the dressing for her as her face was getting redder and redder with each passing moment.

James stood up shakily, staring down at his hands like he couldn’t quite remember what they looked like. He ran one hand down the other then his hands over his face. He gave Severus a desperate look, his eyes almost comically wide. Then he threw himself in front of him in a deep bow as if to kiss his paw.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice shaky, rusty from disuse. “Thank you _so_ much,” he whispered as he pressed his face into Severus’ huge paw as salty droplets christened his fur.

Severus, giving James a narrow-eyed look, gently nudged Norah with his paw towards his once-bitter enemy.

The cub bristled with excitement and eagerly pounced James’ face, knocking him flat on his back.

“Merlin, **_JAMES!”_ ** Lily cried, distressed.

James, however, was laughing in sheer relief. “Thank you,” he told the happy cub, giggling madly as Norah tried to lick his face off one layer at a time with her rough, sandpaper tongue.

Hermione set her hand on Severus’ shoulders and purred. _She’s a real charmer._

_Just like her mother,_ Severus replied, giving his mate a fond nuzzle.

_Only for the right wizard_ , Hermione retorted.

Severus gave Hermione a loving, thorough grooming before they both stood up, collected their cubs, and dragged the remains of the huge boar back into the forest to store in their tree-side larder.

Waste not, want not and all that.

* * *

 

Sirius had a problem.

Well, a few problems.

The first of his problems was a severe flea infestation. Well, maybe that was his second problem to his first: being trapped in the body of a dog.

Being a dog wasn’t so bad. He liked it, usually, but he’d always been able to change back—

Now, he wasn’t able to, and he _hated_ it.

Worse, his attempts to get the Nundu cubs to nip him in the hopes of curing himself seemed to be making his predicament worse instead.

It had worked for Prongs, damnit! He hadn’t failed to notice the lucky bastard walking around with Evans right in front of his bloody nose. He hadn’t seen _exactly_ what went down, seeing as he’d been hexed to stay within fifty feet of the gamekeeper’s hut.

Going home wasn’t an option for him. He’d burned that bridge right thoroughly.

He couldn’t go home with Prongs because they were banned from colluding with each other in any way, shape, or form as part of their arrangement not to be sent to Azkaban for giving Snape what he totally deserved.

It just wasn’t _fair_ that Dumbledore got himself doped up with ruddy Veritaserum breath!

Things had been just fine before that.

Sirius scowled as he watched Prongs dragging an evergreen tree up to Hogwarts for the holiday decorations. Might as well put a shiny red harness and jingle bells on him for Merlin’s sake. He was so ridiculous.

And that Evans witch. Seeing them all cutesy together was downright nauseating.

At least if Wormtail was still around they could find a way to get out of this mess together, but—

He had _no_ idea what had really happened to him. Stuck with the bumbling oaf, all he could hear was what the students said within his hearing range, and the thrice-damned Headmistress had marked the outer limits of his hearing with different-coloured grass, leaves, snow, or whatever was the seasonal fare. How she’d even thought to do _that_ —that old cat was surely a bloody Slytherin in disguise.

It was something his own stupid father would have done.

He’d heard a rumour that a rat had been eaten by one of the school owls, but Sirius didn’t think Wormtail was quite that stupid. He’d always been good about hiding.

He’d heard another rumour claiming that Peter had been carted off to Azkaban for “something utterly unspeakable,” but Sirius didn’t believe _that_ either.

So, Sirius had tried to do what he thought he saw Prongsie do: get nipped by an overgrown mutant furball.

When in Rome…

They weren’t real Nundu. Nundu were lethal disease-breathing beasts. Whatever those mutant freaks were, they definitely weren’t Nundu.

No _way_.

The cubs were bounding over to the Whomping Willow now, dodging and playing with the wildly swinging limbs. The mother beast looked on indulgently, leaping up to lay within the bow of the tree’s moving branches.

Sirius watched their antics with rapidly increasing anger.

How _dare_ they live such carefree, happy lives while he was forced to suffer!

Who _was_ this female beast that ensorcelled old Snivelly and turned him into some kind of bloody superbeast? Why did the Headmistress seem to think he was somehow something more than the greasy, snivelling Slytherin git that he’d always been?

Just because he sprouted fur and fell on four legs instead of two. Psh. He could do that _long_ before Snivellus could.

He, James, Peter—they were all far better wizards than Snivellus Snape would _ever_ be.

If he could just get his paws on some of that magical water that Gringotts used as a barrier to their vaults, maybe he could negate the foul magic that had turned Snivellus into a superbeast.

Sirius’ muzzle twisted into a snarl. Maybe his precious little furballs would eat him, no longer recognising him as their father. It would serve the greasy bastard right.

The patter of many paws made Sirius shift his gaze and ears over to see—

Moony?!

No _way_.

No _fucking_ way.

The cubs had bounded over to Remus and playfully pounced him.

“Argh!” Remus sputtered, picked up one of them and pressed his face to the cubs’ muzzle. The cub lick, lick, licked until it pegged him on the eye.

“Gah!” Remus yelped, tumbling in the grass with the cubs until they pinned him down victoriously.

**_“Mercy!”_ ** Remus called finally. “I yield to your superior prowess!”

The cubs mrowled with mini-roars and let him up.

Remus pulled himself up into a sitting position as the cubs all tried to crawl into his lap.

**_Thump!_ **

Down he went again.

Remus flailed and then went still.

The cubs poked him tentatively with their paws, but he didn’t move.

They poked him again.

Lick.

Lick, lick.

The big black brute of a cat lay his head down right next to Remus’ ear and roared loudly.

Remus shot straight up into the air, his hair practically standing on end.

“That is so not fair, Severus,” Remus said, pouting, his hair still straight as a slide rule.

The female licked Snivellus’ muzzle, rumbling with her tail curled into an amused loop.

Remus pet the nearest black and gold cub on the head. “You’re looking at the newest teacher for the History of Magic. Seems like Binns had faded a bit. They figure by the start of next term, he’ll be completely gone.”

Mrowl! the cub said, as if it understood.

“I have you to thank,” Remus said, bowing his head to the female beast. “For giving me this chance. For giving _me_ a chance.”

Moony cuddled the curly-furred cub and smiled. “I never knew relief until the first night I didn’t change. No gnawing hunger. No terrible restlessness. For the first time I wasn’t coming out of my skin, clawing myself raw. And I _knew_ —I didn’t deserve it after what I let happen. I was truly sorry, for everything.”

One of the furry little blighters tried to take off Moony’s nose, and part of Sirius wanted him to bleed for defecting to Snivellus’ side.

What the _fuck_ was wrong with him?

Sirius was seeing red, and he was acutely aware that the furry little family had stepped past his boundary. Bad enough that Prongs had kissed arse to get himself cured, but Moony too?

Well, he still had teeth. Sirius bared his teeth and launched himself from the concealing brush at his traitorous friend.

There was no room for traitors—not if it involved the likes of fucking Snivellus Snape!

Sirius went for Remus’ throat, teeth bared and murder in his heart as hatred and betrayal burned brightly in his soul.

The blighted feline furballs tackled him in mid-air, their fluffy kitten fur standing on end as their fangs bared and claws unsheathed—

They slammed into his body as their jaws opened impossibly wide.

**_RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!_ **

They breathed out together, their tiny inflated disease sacs pumped out their emotion-laden payload right into Sirius’ face.

The leapt off him, springing off his face as their small, razor-sharp claws slashed viciously at his muzzle.

Sirius went tumbling to the ground, barking, coughing, whining, and yelping as his canine body was forcibly exposed to thrice-concentrated Nundu disease breath.

His shoulders shook as twin growths bulged from them like malignant tumors—only the tumors turned into two identical copies of his original head. Then his body rapidly expanded to support the additional heads. His noses bulged, turning round and red as reindeer antlers sprouted out of his head. His fur turned a deep evergreen as his fur grew a rather startling collection of shiny ornaments and jingle bells.

Sirius opened his mouth, but instead of a vicious bark, his canine voice sounded oddly like a music box playing _The_ _Carol of the Bells_.

“Oi, what’s going on ‘ere?” Hagrid bellowed as he stormed up and promptly tripped over Sirius. “Wut? Aren’t _you_ adorable!” he cried, patting Sirius down.

A horrified Sirius attempted to bite and claw his way out of the sticky situation, but his paws turned into tiny hooves as he shrank down into a very compact, fluffy, three-headed reindeer-dog.

“Dawww, I’m gonna call you Fluffy, I will! We’ll train you up to be the right pride of Hogwarts!” Hagrid crowed happily.

Sirius pissed in the snow as the tune of _Jingle Bells_ clearly resounded across the green. He shot up in the air as his eyes grew very wide. He looked down and under himself to see his beloved assets had transformed into a set of bronze sleigh bells.

He loosed a howl of utter despair that transformed into _Baby It’s Cold Outside._

“Look how talented you are!” Hagrid exclaimed, picking Sirius up and carrying him back to his cottage. “I’ll wash you up, get you a carriage harness, and have you giving joy to all the kids with the best sleigh rides _ever!_ ”

A somewhat woozy Remus sat up from the snowbank he’d been pushed into with one of the cubs plastered over his head like a cat rug.

“What the _hell_ just happened?”

Prrrt!

Mrowl!

Ffft!

The cubs eagerly piled into him, their tails curled up like springs.

_Congratulations, Lupin. My children approve of you._

Remus’ eyes went as wide as saucers. “Severus? I can _understand_ you!”

_Remus. Remus,_ the cubs cheered.

_My talented babies,_ Hermione said with a feline smile. _They make me so very proud._

* * *

 

**_Years pass…_ **

* * *

 

Hermione sprawled out in in the snow-covered Whomping Willow as she gnawed on the remains of an elderly stag. The Christmas lights blinked across every window of Hogwarts, and the soft jingle of sleigh-bells marked where Fluffy was pulling the evening sleigh rides.

Time had passed quickly with Severus and the cubs at her side, and the years went by with a sort of cathartic contentment. She thought often to the events that had led to having been turned into a Nundu and having found her mate in Severus Snape. Despite the loss of a human form, she couldn’t complain about her life. Severus made a dutiful father and an attentive, loving mate—something she had not expected when she had decided she was willing to exchange her life for his so he would survive the Wizarding War.

Who could have known that he would choose to save her right back?

Her beautiful and handsome cubs kept the both of them on their toes, and Minerva trusted them to watch over Hogwarts and keep the children out of the Forbidden forest even when the Acromantulas were gone—well transformed.

Nundu cubs, Hermione realised, had a long childhood, much like human children, so they remained smaller and more adorable for quite awhile. Their hunts had remained limited to smaller animals for a decade before they were ready for larger game—not that they didn’t practice on the reindeer dog as often as they could. They’d stalk him relentlessly, pouncing on him to make him jingle, and then hastily made their escape—at least if Hagrid wasn’t watching. The cubs had decided Hagrid wasn’t any fun to pounce, and avoided him like he was diseased and contagious.

Remus remained a devoted friend to the cubs, having decided to learn how to be an Animagus himself to be able to accompany them around the grounds. Ironically, his Animagus form was not a wolf but a cheetah, much to the cubs’ delight, Severus’ incredulity, and Hermione’s amusement.

James, despite their history, was true to his rehabilitation, and he became a man who served as a great example to his son rather than one of what _not_ to be. After finishing his N.E.W.T.s, he and Lily married, and he took up a job at the Ministry working with troubled and orphaned magical youth as well as sitting his family seat in the Wizengamot.

Lily made a name for herself by making magical aquariums that required little or no maintenance thanks to elaborate filtering and lighting charms mixed with aquarium Feng-Shui. Her creations were said to be the most creative and practical as well as beautiful work in the Wizarding World, and the Ministry commissioned her to make a glorious indoor fountain-aquarium for their largest atrium.

While Lily never trusted the Nundu family enough to visit, Hermione was glad that Harry had his parents, and Severus had lived, having never taken the Mark that would doom him to a lifetime of suffering. She was even willing to forgive Harry for letting Ronald get him into so much trouble considering none of it came close to the near-fatal adventures they had had together.

As Severus leapt up into the Whomping Willow to join Hermione, the cubs scrambled to climb up the trunk the hard way. He gave his mate a loving lick and helped her make the carcass disappear while simultaneously foiling his cubs’ attempts to take over the carcass. He knew full well they had already devoured a boar earlier that morning, and he refused to suffer their complaints.

_Hello, my love,_ Hermione greeted him, licking his face clean of blood.

Severus purr-rumbled, returning the gesture.

Their tails thumped together, curling around each other’s.

Hagrid’s yell came from far off as the silhouette of Fluffy ran off with the sleigh to the tune of _Dashing Through the Snow_.

As the cubs mrowled and settled next to their parents, they all closed their eyes and fell asleep to the sound of the Christmas elves singing _O Holy Night_ as the Christmas spiders wove delicate snowflakes and the leylines distributed them to dangle from every window.

* * *

_**Fin.** _

* * *

**A/N:** This was written for the Hogwarts and Holidays Fanfiction Festival for the Harry Potter Fanfiction Collective

 


End file.
